The above weird email request
was received at Little Darwin’s
North Queensland sanatorium from notorious American gonzo journalist , Hunter S. Thompson ,who it seems has been sipping soda nonstop
since he boarded the Spirit of Queensland train in Brisbane on his way to unsuspecting Townsville to do an exclusive fear and loathing report on the Sunshine State’s campaign trail.
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| Tricky Dicky talked baseball with Thompson |
His shoe phone, stolen from the CIA while he was covering the President Nixon election , did not respond when we urgently
rang back to ask what the hell he means ...shake the hand of the famous Townsville Magpie ?
In desperation , we Googled Townsville
Magpie and got what seemed to be a strong clue to the feathered mystery.
THE TOWNSVILLE MAGPIE
From 2002 to 2010, The Townsville Magpie was the most
popular column in the Saturday Townsville Bulletin, with an estimated weekly
readership of more than 20,000, almost half the Saturday paper’s circulation.
It was christened The Magpie because the old bird’s gimlet eye was attracted to
shiny little trinkets, both trivial and substantial – just like his namesake.
On his retirement in 2010 , The Magpie’s alter ego,
journalist and columnist Malcolm Weatherup decided to keep doing weekly posts,
with a slight change of character, offering a more edgy humorous take on
politicians, the local council, Townsville Enterprise, and others near and far
who would influence and regulate our lives.
Reader response
was immediate and gratifying, and continues to grow steadily. The paper itself
was one such organisation which merited hitherto impossible critical
examination, and modern social media provided the ideal platform.
The spur for
Malcolm’s personal ‘Media Watch’ came when the paper repeatedly published
editorial lectures to local companies about the importance of jobs in North
Queensland while at the same time stealthily sacking a third of its staff
(almost 100 skilled people) to outsource jobs south and to India. None of which
was reported in the paper. So Malcolm gave it detailed and unwelcome exposure,
with an immediate response of both delight at the irreverence, general disgust
at this behaviour, and howls of outrage from the Bulletin management.
His new
independence allows him to continue to highlight some of the hidden roles of
the paper itself, which at the time he left, was rapidly changing into a
down-market tabloid. This was a move which he believes was a great
miscalculation by a cynical News Ltd, and a grave disservice to the community
from which the Bulletin derived so much financial benefit. Plummeting
circulation and readership have confirmed his initial view – which he thinks is
a crying shame for this city.
The Magpie’s
insider knowledge of the paper’s functioning, management structure and
editorial structure/policy has resulted in humorous posts which have greatly
annoyed Holt Street HQ in Sydney, and prompted fruitless quasi-legal attempts
to bully him (and even an uninvolved family member) into silence. No such luck.
Now
entering his 48th year as a journalist, Malcolm intends to continue writing on
all manner of subjects, not just the Townsville Bulletin, offering his unique
take on all aspects of the community in which he loves to live.
Extra pages are being added to the Magpie’s Nest site
to broaden its appeal. Hope you enjoy it and participate in the fun and
information. You’ll need keep your sense of both the ridiculous and your
funny-bone well oiled.
After reading this , we realized we had solved Hunter
S. Thompson’s odd email message as this
Weatherup guy
sounds like his kind of fearless
scribe . Little Darwin
awaits Hunter’s arrival in Townsville in a certain state of apprehension and has arranged
for an Irish doctor to hit him with a big vitamin injection when he
stumbles out onto the platform , intent on hiring a fire engine red Cougar and speeding around to the Weatherup residence , where parking is a problem , and present him with a Pulitzer Prize for real journalism. Sounds like an interesting conversation between the two birds is in the offing .
